


The Chef's Special

by Stariceling



Category: Toriko (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Everyone Loves Komatsu, Food Kink, M/M, Misuse of Special Techniques, Senses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four Kings, four finely-honed techniques, and one very special chef. A series for each of the Four Kings to use their own special skills as they try to lovingly seduce Komatsu. These all take place after the Ozone Herb arc, so spoilers up to that point but shouldn't be any for events afterward.</p><p>Toriko/Komatsu: Love and cooking, Komatsu wants to let Toriko taste both.<br/>Coco/Komatsu: Komatsu is feeling tired and sore after a long day, but Coco knows just how to help.<br/>Sunny/Komatsu: After inviting Komatsu out for a special night, Sunny finally makes a very important proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Toriko/Komatsu

**Author's Note:**

> Allow me to introduce a sort-of series I've been working on. I wanted to write a little something about each of the Four Kings and Komatsu, with a bit of a twist. Each story will have them using their special skills on Komatsu in naughty ways. I'll be posting these in the order that the characters appear in the manga, since that seemed like the only fair way to do it. I promise that I will keep at it until I can get to Zebra in the end!
> 
> These will all probably include implied sex, but I don't think anything too explicit will come yet. So many thanks to Rice Kracker for being so patient with me while I tried to write this, and encouraging my little brain tangents. I sincerely hope everyone will enjoy this and get to read their favorite king/Komatsu pair, with lots of extra love.

It was becoming an increasingly familiar routine, having the entire top-floor restaurant completely booked for one particularly special guest. For Komatsu the evening would climax when he left the familiar order and bustle of his kitchen, armed with enough desserts and drinks to leave a full house stuffed and tipsy, and joined his beloved partner for the final course.

Toriko would regale him with fantastic stories, particularly about any special ingredients he had captured and brought back to the Hotel Gourmet. It often made Komatsu long to be out in the field alongside Toriko all the time, in spite of the dangers and his own duties. Then Toriko would make a game out of unerringly guessing which dishes had been prepared by the little chef's own hands, which always resulted in Komatsu's heart racing in surprised happiness.

Cooking for Toriko never seemed to stop making him happy. Komatsu felt as if the whole kitchen was echoing with joy on those nights. Maybe it was because his staff was now used to Toriko, making good-natured jokes about the bishokuya's incredible appetite and admiring the rare ingredients that always appeared along with him. Maybe it was just a private happiness humming in Komatsu's nerves. All he knew was that it left him feeling all wound up inside, with a strength he couldn't account for and an excitement he couldn't define.

And when he finally emerged from the kitchen and saw Toriko's blissful face. . . that was what it took for his excited tension to dissolve into warm satisfaction. Komatsu couldn't have explained it aloud, but it was a completeness he had rarely felt before meeting Toriko.

It wasn't as if he didn't have other victories in his life. The restaurant was enjoying unqualified success. (Even that was due at least in part to Toriko, both for the rare ingredients he allowed them to sporadically add to the menu, and because apparently having the entire restaurant occasionally unavailable because of a famous guest leant a certain hint of the desirable to their image.) People had even stopped bothering to remind him that he was the youngest head chef the Hotel Gourmet had ever appointed, finally accepting he had earned his position. He even had a level-headed and trustworthy (and mulishly stubborn, though at least he didn't complain about Komatsu's absences so long as something came of them) sous chef who could be left in charge for weeks on end, doling out their stock of Century Soup with an iron fist so it wouldn't run out.

The spike in popularity that Hotel Gourmet had enjoyed was wonderful, exciting, but also starting to wear everyone out. They'd hired new chefs to keep up with the rush, but that would only really be helpful when they'd been trained a little more thoroughly in the hotel's specialties, and Komatsu had too much pride not to take everything on his own narrow shoulders until then.

At the moment the deep satisfaction he felt from Toriko's smile almost made him go limp in his seat. Someday he would try to express it to Toriko, the joy that washed over him when he saw the food he had prepared with his own hands being enjoyed, but for now he only had the energy left to bask in that feeling.

"You're not going to have some?" Toriko asked, suddenly breaking through Komatsu's tired musings.

Komatsu looked around, he hadn't even been aware of spacing out with his thoughts, and realized Toriko was indicating the pasty chef's specialty, the 'tower of tarts' that they usually didn't serve to parties of fewer than twenty guests because there would be so much left over. The entire thing was a feat of timing more than anything else, making sure every single sweet or fruity mouthful would be at the peak of perfection when served.

Toriko had already devoured about half of the tower before he'd even stopped to ask.

"I couldn't! You're the guest, Toriko-san, I'm just keeping you company." No matter how familiar they became, Komatsu still couldn't suppress that instinct to look after his guest, and especially his partner, before himself.

"You should keep me company by enjoying this too," Toriko insisted.

He didn't give Komatsu a chance to protest again, but selected a white apple tart and held it out for Komatsu to take. When Komatsu hesitated a moment too long in reaching out to take it he felt Toriko's other hand on his chin, prompting him to open his mouth.

Toriko had been popping the tarts in his mouth like bite-sized morsels, but it took Komatsu three bites to get through one. They were big bites, too. The feeling of Toriko's fingers brushing his chin, his throat, his lips, made him so nervous he wanted to finish quickly. The moment he did finish Komatsu found himself licking sweet syrup and flaky crust from his lips, paradoxically wishing Toriko's hand was still touching his face.

The white apple tart was one of his pasty chef's most successful creations. The blended sweetness and tartness of the apples, deepened with spices and cradled in a light crust, had certainly never drawn a single complaint. There was a rumor around the kitchen that her husband had proposed to her immediately after first tasting her white apple tarts. (It was probably true. Her husband ran a modest gourmet orchard that supplied many of the cultivated fruits used by the Hotel Gourmet, and it was no secret he fawned over her cooking.)

Komatsu murmured something to this effect, temporarily mesmerized by Toriko licking crumbs and sticky-sweet syrup from the tart off of his fingers.

"Oh?" Toriko grinned at the idea of it. "It's no surprise someone would fall in love with a skilled chef like that."

Komatsu felt himself blush and had to turn away quickly, trying not to let Toriko see. Why was he getting so embarrassed? It wasn't like it was his personal cooking being complimented.

Toriko plied him with more pastries and a 'shot' of bourbon that was more like a full bottle to a normal person, and much stronger than Komatsu normally would have tried. He sipped at it anyway, hoping to gain an excuse for his flushed cheeks.

The liquor didn't help as Komatsu's exhaustion slowly caught up with him. He rested his arms and then his head on the table once again, content for the moment to watch Toriko's gluttonous appitite make short work of the rest of the varried dessert course.

Komatsu didn't even realize he was lost in a daze until he felt Toriko's hand on his face once again. He blinked his eyes open and found Toriko's warm, fond gaze on him. Toriko's thumb was stroking his cheek, and somehow the table had been cleared and the dining room entirely cleaned up. How could he have missed that amount of activity?

"Did cooking for me tire you out?"

"Of course not!" Komatsu blurted out, "Because I love cooking for you! I want to see you enjoy everything I can give you, more than anything!"

He couldn't believe he had said it so suddenly. Toriko's hand was touching his face the same way as when he had been fed the tart, thumb pressing against his chin and lower lip as if to pry his mouth open.

"There's something else I want to enjoy, if you're willing to give it to me."

Komatsu didin't know what to think of those words. He had some ideas, but they were utter madness, surely.

"What is it? Is there something you wanted to try? Of course I'll do everything I can to prepare it for you!"

"Actually, I think the most delicious thing in this room is already prepared." Toriko's hand left his cheek, and Komatsu felt himself suddenly hemmed in by Toriko's arms, one around his back, the other snaking down to grip under his knees as Toriko suddenly knelt in front of him, making it impossible to rise out of his chair. "I just want your permission to feast."

"Toriko-san?" Komatsu found he didn't need to ask, not with the hungry way Toriko was eyeing him. If he gave the word, he would be the one devoured. "I just said I want to see you to enjoy everything I can give you, didn't I?" he whispered.

That was all that needed to be said. Komatsu found himself lifted in Toriko's arms as if he weighed nothing at all, then laid out on the empty table, reverently, like a sumptuous morsel. He squirmed a little, uncomfortable in the unaccustomed position of being laid out like he was on a serving dish, then froze at the unanticipated sight looming over him.

Toriko seemed to tower over him, his solid bulk casting a shadow over Komatsu's small body. His hands were set in a ready position that Komatsu recognized immediately, the fork and knife.

Komatsu tried to squirm backwards, out from under Toriko's shadow. He had never thought Toriko meant to literally devour him!

Before he could escape Toriko had modified his 'knife' hand down to one outstreched finger, more like a scalpel. He made a single careful flick in the air down the line of Komatsu's body, accompanied by Komatsu's startled squeal. For an instant Komatsu thought that the cutting pressure wave of Toriko's flying knife had somehow missed him.

In the next moment he felt a cool breeze across his chest and his uniform fell away, sliced neatly open by Toriko's delicately aimed knife.

The fork was applied wihtout mercy, sweeping both halves of his shirt open and pinning them to the table, leaving him trapped and exposed. It wasn't the cool air on his bare skin that was making him shiver, though. Excitement was leaving him to pant helplessly, breathless with anticipation.

"Itadakimasu," Toriko purred, licking his lips as if he had something delecious laid out in front of him.

Komatsu caught his breath and then immediately lost it again in a loud moan as Toriko bent down and started to lick him. Toriko's hot, wet tongue started at his navel and traveled all the way up to his collarbone. The trail finally ended with Toriko sucking hungrily at his neck while Komatsu whimpered and tried to arch up into the touch, still pinned to the table.

"Toriko-san!" Komatsu tried to press kisses to Toriko's cheek, the only place he could reach. Toriko was applying teeth to his shoulder and neck, so gently that the play bites didn't even make him nervous.

Toriko slid out of range of his kisses as Komatsu whimpered for more. Lips and tongue made thorough work of tasting every inch of Komatsu's exposed chest, moving steadily down, back to his navel, and then. . .

"To. . ri. . . ko. . . sa. . ." Komatsu could only gasp. The tension he had felt while cooking for Toriko was back, coiling so tightly in his stomach he could barely breathe. He knew it couldn't be released until he was sure Toriko had enjoyed every morsel laid out for him with loving care.

Firm hands on his thighs held him trapped, or he might have wrapped his legs around Toriko's neck. Toriko's face was hovering over the tent forming in his pants, driving Komatsu mad with the heat of those open-mouthed breaths. Komatsu could only manage non-verbal demands now, willing Toriko to understand that he needed to be devoured.

Toriko moved back up his body, ignoring Komatsu's cry of frustration. In a moment they were nose-to-nose, Komatsu glaring for all he was worth in an attempt to chastize Toriko for teasing him.

Then Toriko's mouth descended on his, and Komatsu forgot about being angry. A kiss from Toriko, hot and sure and demanding. He had wanted a kiss like this for so long, dreamed of how that eager mouth would feel against his. . . .

Something felt off. Toriko was kissing him, finally kissing him, heady enough so that it took Komatsu half a second to even realize what was missing.

No taste. Komatsu opened his mouth, desperately seeking more, letting Toriko's muscular snake of a tongue slither inside to torment him. There was no hint of the sweet dessert and bitter liquor they had shared, no taste he could define as belonging to Toriko alone, nothing.

The world was fuzzy around the edges when Toriko drew back from him. Komatsu clenched his hands until his nails dug into his palms, but there was no pain, only the uncomfortable tightness of arousal in his pants and the wretched tightness in his chest that would go unreleased. Komatsu squeezed his eyes closed in disappointment.

When he opened his eyes again the dream was gone. The world was still a little fuzzy to his sleepy eyes until Komatsu was able to raise a hand to rub angrily at them. It wasn't the first time he'd tormented himself with that dream, and he didn't dare hope it would be the last.

Then Komatsu took stock of his surroundings, and finally realized that he was being supported in Toriko's arms.

Toriko was holding him the same way Komatsu had felt arms around him in the dream, one arm around his back and the other under his knees. Komatsu had a moment of panic as he looked down at himself, but he was still clothed, and though his dream had left him aroused enough to be in torment, at least his condition wasn't immediately visible.

"Hey!" Toriko greeted him brightly, which made Komatsu want to squirm in shame. "You were so worn out you fell asleep right there in the restaurant, so I thought I'd take you home to rest."

"You don't have to go out of your way, Toriko-san!" Komatsu protested.

"It's fine. Well, I did get a little turned around at first, but I think this is the way to your building, right?"

"R-right. I can walk from here, Toriko-san. I'm fine, really. I shouldn't have been so rude as to fall asleep-"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

Komatsu was still trying to make himself breathe normally. Being held against Toriko's chest was not exactly helping the aftereffects of his dream go away. "Oh. . . okay?"

"You were making some weird noises in your sleep," Toriko started, his voice deep and serious, and Komatsu felt as if his whole body had gone hot, then cold, and then hotter than ever in the endless instant before Toriko continued. "Were you having nightmares about monsters? Or about going out in the wild with me? I thought you were at least feeling less terrified about it than before."

"It's nothing like that! It was just some silly dream. I've forgotten it already, actually!" Komatsu lied. The words tasted like ash on his tongue, because how could he ever forget something like Toriko's tongue tasting every part of him? Or Toriko cutting off his clothes with a deadly attack turned to perfect precision? Or especially Toriko almost, almost swallowing him whole. . . .

Toriko bent closer over him, frowning with concern and making Komatsu feel even more guilty for his perverted thoughts. "I'm asking because it sounded like you were crying out for me to save you."

Before Komatsu could work out some excuse Toriko took a breath to continue, paused, then pressed his face into Komatsu's chest, prompting a startled yelp, and breathed in again in one deep sniff.

When Toriko raised his head his cheeks were flushed with an embarrassment to match Komatsu's. He didn't question Komatsu further, but stretched his legs as he hurried towards Komatsu's apartment building.

Was it possible for Toriko to smell the arousal on him? Komatsu didn't even need to ask after seeing Toriko's expression. He could only cling to Toriko, hiding his own face. In the uncomfortable silence that settled between them he could hear Toriko breathing hard through his nose, breathing in whatever smell had tipped him off over and over again with deeper and deeper breaths.

After a minute with no sound between them but those greedy sniffs, Toriko swallowed audibly once, then again. It took Komatsu a second to realize it, but it was almost how Toriko reacted when presented with such a amazing dish that even he had to hold back and try to savor it. Toriko would always gorge himself on the smell first, having to gulp down drool in his anticipation.

As Toriko continued to breathe hard against him, clasping him close, Komatsu had a familiar, yet strange, intuition. Like an ingredient that put up a stubborn and difficult shell, but underneath had a feeling as if it was waiting for a pair of hands that would prepare it with the utmost care, he felt Toriko wanted. . . no, _needed_ the correct touch to bring out his secrets, but couldn't ask for it.

Toriko was practically leaping up the stairs in Komatsu's apartment building by the time Komatsu dared to drape one arm over Toriko's shoulder to pull himself up. He stayed there, safe in Toriko's arms even when he felt Toriko finally stop outside of his door.

"Should I tell you what dream I had, Toriko-san?" He managed to ask. Toriko was still holding him as if he never meant to let go. Komatsu couldn't have retreated into his apartment if he wanted to.

"Was it a bad dream?"

"No, not at all! How could it be bad when it was about you?"

Toriko met his eyes at that, and the embarrassment and misunderstandings seemed to melt away in that moment, until there was nothing left between them but a few centimeters of empty air.

"I should explain. I feel like my work is never complete at all until you're enjoying it, until it's finally inside your mouth," Komatsu babbled, suddenly feeling more naked than if Toriko had completely shredded his clothes. "And I dreamed you used your mouth to. . . to kiss me."

It made sense in his head, the connection between cooking and love. He was so sure Toriko would have to understand. If not, Komatsu didn't know how he could fully explain himself.

When Toriko grinned at him there was no question that he did understand. The satisfaction of a dish that brought the diner to bliss, the heady feeling of sincere love, they blended together like a perfect balance of spice and herbs in a rich sauce, bringing happiness to the dish called life.

Komatsu wrapped both arms around Toriko's powerful neck and hung there, helplessly happy just from that simple understanding. He nuzzled his face into Toriko's jaw, and he couldn't have said later who initiated the kiss, just that in the next moment Toriko's mouth was on his. Toriko's kiss was as firm and insistent as he ever could have dreamed, and with the tastes his sleeping mind could never perfectly duplicate, growing deeper and richer as Toriko's mouth opened against his, tongue darting in to taste Komatsu in return.

They couldn't do this here in the hallway, where anyone could walk by. Komatsu braced one hand on Toriko's chin to push him away. The little whine of disappointment he made pricked at Komatsu's heart for an instant, but then Toriko had greedily sucked Komatsu's fingers into his mouth instead.

Komatsu could only laugh, digging out his keys one-handed while Toriko tasted his fingers. He let both of them into his apartment before retrieving his hand from Toriko's mouth and giving the eager bishokuya another kiss. His keys dropped to the floor, the door fell shut behind them, and Komatsu didn't care anymore.

When Toriko broke away it was to sniff him again, working his way down Komatsu's body like a bloodhound on the scent while Komatsu clung to him, hands clutching at Toriko's messy hair. Cradled high in Toriko's arms, he could only moan and shiver with anticipation when Toriko's face burrowed between his legs. Not just picking up his scent now, he could swear Toriko was licking him, trying to taste him through his clothes.

The noises he was making prompted Toriko's head to lift again. For all that he wouldn't even let Komatsu down out of his arms, there was uncertainty warring with the desire in his eyes. It reminded Komatsu of the half-started and quickly dropped conversations just before Toriko had asked him to form a combo. Komatsu found he couldn't even fluster about with embarrassment when Toriko so obviously needed him.

Love was enough like cooking for him to understand. Touches slow and firm enough to coax without startling, endless kisses for them to sample each other, encouragement to unlock those delicious secrets. . . .

Komatsu whispered promises low and private against the nape of Toriko's neck, as Toriko bent to lap delicately at his exposed navel. "You can taste everything you want."

And then, Komatsu was determined, he was going to taste every part of Toriko in return.


	2. Coco/Komatsu

Komatsu was far too full and exhausted to move. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the vague thought that it would be rude to leave Coco's kitchen so messy after it had been graciously offered for him to use. He should go clean up, if he could just get his body to cooperate.

By now he was used to returning from his adventures feeling sore and stiff in interesting new ways. His body had quickly toughened up in response to the demands he placed on it trying to keep up with Toriko, but he still found ways to come home bruised, dirty and tired. At least that usually meant returning victorious, with some rare new ingredient to show for it, but Komatsu's body didn't immediately heal itself in response to delicious food the way the four kings all could.

The soreness hadn't been nearly so bad while he was in the ecstacy of cooking. Coco had graciously offered him full run of the kitchen when he started planning out exactly what he wanted to cook. Of course he'd had more than enough to distract him once he was in his element. The kitchen had been comfortably warm with steam, and filled with a variety of mouth-watering smells that changed with each moment.

He'd also had Coco helping him, fetching things that he would have needed a ladder to reach himself, and shifting anything heavier than an empty platter the instant before Komatsu started to reach for it. Being accustomed to working surrounded by competent assistants made it easy to adjust to Coco's presence. It was a little odd to have someone fussing over him and trying to save him from lifting even a few kilos on his own, but he took it in stride.

It didn't even occur to him until he was halfway through preparing their dinner that the kitchen was scaled to Coco's size in more than simple terms of height. It took him that long to realize that a single person, one who rarely welcomed any sort of company, normally wouldn't need pots of the size he was used to working with at the hotel. He'd made a mental note to be sure Coco's appetite was accounted for, even if he was so much more polite about it than Toriko.

Cooking was wonderful, but eating the results was even more wonderful. The expressions of pleasure and satisfaction his cooking brought forth were almost as enjoyable as tasting it himself. The meal was a gourmet's dream; pillowy nests of mermaid-hair pasta cushioned strips of rich, buttery-smooth meat seared delicately on one side and flavored with paper-thin slivers of earthy truffle.

Komatsu hadn't known what to expect when Toriko suggested hunting for pearl truffles. The search had quickly turned into a contest between Terry and Toriko to see who could sniff out the most. Before the end they had unearthed many times more than Komatsu could possibly use in a single meal, even with Toriko's prodigious appetite. When they were done, Komatsu had made the hopeful suggestion that Coco was so close they should share their bounty with him. Maybe he had been a little more insistent about it than just suggesting, but it felt like too long since he'd had a chance to see Coco. Besides, Toriko hadn't argued with him.

Their visit was obviously no surprise to the experienced fortune-teller. Coco had greeted them not just with his enigmatic smile, but with a large stock of fresh foie gras clams, which Komatsu had wanted to prepare with the pearl truffles but had found completely sold out in every market they had passed on the way.

Between them the gourmet meal had been gathered, prepared and now devoured. Komatsu couldn't speak for the others, but he was so satiated he could have happily fallen asleep right where he was.

Making it even more difficult to move was that fact that he was tucked safely against Coco's arm. He almost wanted to be wrapped up in the warmth he felt through Coco's clothes, imagining how it would soothe his sore muscles.

Toriko had gone out with Terry in search of a strong drink to top off his meal, since Coco didn't keep a drop of alcohol at home. Komatsu distantly remembering Toriko asking Coco to take care of him, but he probably hadn't meant that to include being Komatsu's human heating pad and pillow.

"Komatsu-kun, is your back hurting you?"

"Hm?" Komatsu opened his eyes slowly. He hadn't even noticed letting them slide closed until Coco got his attention. "A little, but it's nothing. I'm just a little sore."

"I'm asking because it looks like it's inflamed."

Komatsu tried to look back over his shoulder, then felt silly because of course he couldn't see anything through his shirt. "How. . . ?"

"The spectrum my eyes can pick up includes infrared," Coco explained, "and your back looks a lot hotter than it should."

"That's amazing, Coco-san!" He had known Coco could 'see' heat, but didn't know how subtle of a difference he could actually detect. The slight smile that flitted across Coco's face at his praise was almost as invisibly subtle.

"May I take a closer look?"

Komatsu nodded in agreement, but found himself so stiff he couldn't even raise his arms over his head. Coco had to help him slip off his shirt. As Komatsu's back was exposed Coco sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.

This time when Komatsu craned his head around he could see the flush of inflamation all across his shoulders. His skin was broken in about a dozen places with small bite marks, each surrounded by a bruise already blushing deep purple.

"What happened? Something bit you."

"Um." Komatsu hedged, but he couldn't escape Coco's stern frown of worry. He ended up having to explain about being backed into a tree by an angry crabpig, and because of that he had disturbed a line of ants that had been trooping up the bark of said tree, earning him several bites. It hadn't hurt much at the time, and because Toriko was with him the incident had quickly been resolved (with fresh crabpig for lunch) and Komatsu had quickly forgotten about it. Coco, however, looked like it would take a lot more than a few servings of crabpig to make him happy.

"Black tongue ants," Coco surmised, and Komatsu nodded agreement. That was what Toriko had identified them as when he brushed a few stragglers off of Komatsu's clothes. "Do you know how they got the name? If you try to eat them without proper preparation, their venom will be released and bruise your tongue until it looks black. The muscles of your tongue and jaw can stiffen until it becomes impossible to eat for several days."

Komatsu had a few seconds to be appalled by the possible consequence of eating that particular ingredient before something else occurred to him. "Wait a minute, they're really that poisonous? Coco-san?" His voice rose in a half-panicked wail.

"You'll be okay," Coco immediately soothed, his hand brushing gently across the sore places on Komatsu's back when Komatsu immediately tried to cling to him. "They have large reserves of venom that causes their prey's muscles to stiffen, but it would take many more bites than this to be dangerous."

"That's good," Komatsu sighed. He certainly trusted Coco's expertise. At least he could be sure he wasn't in life-threatening danger, even if it seemed like there would be no relief for his sore muscles. "Is there any sort of medicine I should take to help?"

"I'm sorry. I don't have anything like that around."

That made sense, since Coco wouldn't need it himself and he didn't have many visitors. Komatsu just gave him a bright smile of understanding.

"Well, I'll get better eventually, right? It's just going to be a little difficult cleaning up."

It took a minute for Coco to respond, just long enough for it to occur to Komatsu that it might have sounded like he was trying to get out of cleaning the kitchen. He was about to apologize and sheepishly retract the comment when Coco answered.

"Theoretically," Coco began in a low voice, "the venom could be countered by something with an opposite effect. A poison that relaxes the muscles and makes them limp could cancel out the effects of one that makes them tense. Of course there isn't a perfect 'equal and opposite' cure for everything, but knowing how this poison acts it would be possible."

Even though he was uncomfortably sore and tender, Komatsu noticed a certain reluctance in Coco's offer. For some reason he couldn't put his finger on, he was reminded of how Coco had reacted to him when they first met. Coco hadn't just been serenely cool and reluctant to touch. It would be impossible to forget the way he had immediately distanced himself when Komatsu learned about his poison, withdrawing before Komatsu could as if he had expected Komatsu to recoil from the idea of even sharing the same space.

Komatsu couldn't lift his arms to hug Coco around the neck, so instead he climbed directly into Coco's lap, wrapping his arms around the stunned Bishokuya as far as they would reach.

"Coco-san, will you please put your hands on my back?"

Coco did as he was asked, but he hesitated long enough for Komatsu to be sure of the reluctance he had noticed before.

Nuzzling his cheek into Coco's chest, Komatsu refrained from commenting on Coco's obvious uncertainty. "That feels a lot better, since you're so nice and warm!"

"Komatsu-kun," Coco whispered.

"This is more than enough to help. Besides, you'd be able to see right away if I was in any danger, right?"

It was difficult to know just how much it cost Coco to offer him something like that. Komatsu guessed that was at least one of the reasons people had wanted to study Coco in the past, and he never wanted to be the one to remind him of something like that. A little discomfort was nothing if the alternative was to cause Coco pain.

Coco was unquestionably self-sufficient, and in his own way he remained aloof from the petty fusses of other people, but no matter how cool he was there was something to Coco's isolation that went beyond choice. There were moments where Komatsu was sure Coco was holding back, untouching and untouchable, out of his own deep compassion. It made Komatsu want even more to hug and cuddle and physically prove how much he cared for Coco.

Perhaps more importantly, he knew Coco cared deeply for him as well. Asking Coco to use his poison on someone he cared for would be particularly cruel. Komatsu was well aware of Coco's firm self-control, and trusted him, but such a thing would put more of a strain on Coco's nerves than his trust.

"You're not in danger," Coco confirmed. He pulled Komatsu into a firm embrace, just tight enough to feel warm and comfortable without pain. Komatsu was reminded once again of just how kind Coco was.

"But I don't want you to be in pain, either," Coco continued. "Let me help you."

"Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you after everything else," Komatsu tried to explain all in a rush.

"I want to do everything I can for you, if you're willing to let me."

Komatsu nodded his consent, pressing into the safety of Coco's chest even more. "I trust you." He would never let Coco doubt that.

Coco let out a breath that ruffled Komatsu's hair, but didn't say anything.

It started off innocently enough as Coco began to rub his hands slowly up and down Komatsu's back. His were eyes closed in concentration, his breathing so deep and steady that the feeling of it relaxed Komatsu.

After a few passes, Komatsu almost felt as if Coco was rubbing lotion over his back. It was faintly slick, and sticky, and made the tender places where he had been bitten feel cool and numb without the slightest pain. Komatsu took a deep breath of contentment and caught the strong scent it was giving off.

This was nothing like the sharp, bitter way Coco had smelled when he had gone very suddenly and completely on the defensive from the appearance of that bishokukai's GT Robo in the pufferfish whale lagoon. Komatsu remembered that the change had been sudden enough to make his nose sting. Instead, this smelled a little like a mosquito coil in summer, but mostly like essential oils. It was comforting in an herbal, summery sort of way. Komatsu pressed his face into Coco and breathed deep, finding the pleasant smell was coming from him as well, though in a slightly more subdued, musky form.

Once Komatsu's back was well covered with the soothing 'lotion,' Coco slowed down to work his fingers into exposed pressure points. In the first few seconds there might be a twinge of pain, a protest from sore muscles, but never enough to make Komatsu wince or whimper. Soon Komatsu could feel his muscles relaxing under that firm touch, and as strong hands worked across his shoulders and slowly down his back Komatsu couldn't help going limp with pleasure.

Little noises of contented pleasure just wouldn't seem to form into proper words, no matter how much Komatsu tried. He wanted to articulate his thanks for Coco's tender care somehow.

Perhaps Coco understood already. His indulgent smile as Komatsu nuzzled against his chest like an affectionate kitten did show he was comfortable with the situation, at the very least.

"That's all I can do. It would be just as bad to give you too much, but the rest will heal sooner now."

"Mm." Komatsu wanted to express how grateful he was, especially with the way Coco was pampering him on top of everything, but then those talented fingers started rubbing the back of his neck, and the words somehow dissolved.

"Does it feel better?"

Maybe he was just asking because he was polite. He tone was so gentle, with a little half-laugh as Komatsu continued to cling like a sleepy koala, and surely he would know that he had done the right thing. Still, Komatsu had to offer reassurance.

"I feel completely better. See?" Komatsu lifted his arms to hug Coco around the neck, smiling broadly at that little success. "I couldn't even do that before. Thank you, Coco-san!"

It didn't seem like enough, so Komatsu used his new grip to pull himself up and plant a kiss on Coco's mouth. He'd meant to get his cheek, but Coco half-turned to see what he was doing, and somehow it was natural to keep going rather than try to correct, and plant a friendly kiss right on Coco's lips.

"Thank you," Komatsu repeated.

Coco didn't answer, though his mouth was half-open with shock as he touched one hand to his lips. He turned his face away from Komatsu, who suddenly realized that a kiss was too forward.

Komatsu had known Coco probably wouldn't return the type of affection he felt, and doubted Coco would enjoy intimate gestures from someone he didn't truly love in return. He was too private of a person to accept unwanted tokens of love.

"I'm sorry, Coco-san. I got a little carried away."

"No, it's not that." There was something wistful in the way he said it. It reminded Komatsu of the little hints of reservation Coco still held, even when they didn't show in anything more obvious than a wry smile at his self-imposed isolation. "My poison. . ."

For some reason his reaction struck a nerve in Komatsu, making him want to sweep away Coco's protests with proof of how much he adored the reserved bishokuya. So Coco assumed no one would be willing to kiss him? That was unacceptable.

It wasn't like Coco was poisonous to the touch when he wasn't defending himself. Komatsu had cuddled against him for skin-to-skin contact far too many times to be afraid of that. Now he threw his arms around Coco's neck and planted a firm kiss on the underside of Coco's jaw.

When he got no more protest than a sharp intake of breath, Komatsu moved up to press kisses across Coco's face. He found Coco smelled more of musk than herbs now, and the sensual scent of him made Komatsu's blood pound in his ears.

Finally Komatsu found Coco's lips again. He stubbornly pressed a kiss against them, more determined and demanding than before. He could feel Coco kissing him back, mouth opening eagerly against his. Komatsu didn't pull away until Coco's hands cupped his cheeks and physically forced him to break the kiss.

"You can't do that." The breathless protest came out much fainter than Coco probably would have liked.

"I just wanted to prove it's okay to touch," Komatsu tried to explain. He sat back in Coco's lap, feeling sheepish once he was no long too swept up in kissing to be aware of what he was doing. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I promise I'm not asking you to like me, but-"

"It's because I love you that you shouldn't do that!"

Komatsu blinked in surprise, his mouth snapping closed mid-apology. He had been expecting exactly the opposite, but then. . . he didn't doubt the confession for an instant. Coco might be reserved, but he was truly honest. Besides, he was still holding on to Komatsu hard enough to keep him from squirming free and escaping in embarrassment.

"It's my saliva. I can't completely control it when you're like this," Coco started to explain, his embarrassment so palpable it made Komatsu want to squirm under it. "When I feel. . . aroused, it starts mimicking an aphrodisiac."

"Oh."

"I love you too much. I don't want you to swallow something like that."

Coco released him in an uncharacteristically jerky motion, as if forcing himself to allow Komatsu to flee. Komatsu didn't budge, snuggling himself into Coco's chest more stubbornly than ever. When he moved closer without Coco carefully holding him in place, he was quite aware of just how aroused Coco had become.

"I already love you enough to kiss you on the mouth. It's not your fault if I'm affected, because it's both of our love."

Coco would find a false or undeserved (at least so far as he was concerned, since Komatsu was sure he more than earned every bit of esteem and admiration people gave him) affection even more painful than no affection at all. Komatsu could see that, but he knew what he felt was completely real. He had to convince Coco of that as well.

"I wanted to share the truffles we found today with you. You know that, right?" Komatsu started, trying in his own roundabout way to explain. "I missed you, so-"

"I know."

Coco's hands came to cup Komatsu's face. He held Komatsu there for a wistfully long moment before moving to kiss him briefly on the mouth.

This felt like something close to an understanding. Komatsu gripped tense handfuls of Coco's shirt, forcing himself to move slowly as they traded soft, closed-mouth kisses. He didn't want to spook Coco.

After half a dozen chaste kisses, Coco sighed, his lips brushing across Komatsu's broad nose. "I don't deserve you."

"Only because you deserve better," Komatsu scolded, catching the self-depreciating meaning and turning it around. "But if you'll settle for me?"

Coco laughed, but seemed to realize it was futile to argue. He allowed Komatsu to go back to kissing him.

Their touches stayed soft and slow until Komatsu felt the subtle resistance in Coco's kisses melting away. He eased Coco's mouth open under his, tracing the tip of his tongue along Coco's lower lip and deepening the kiss. This was everything he could have wanted. Hot and wet against his, Coco's mouth tasted of rich food and potent musk.

He wanted to devour Coco whole. In that moment it was probably lust as much as love as he dipped his tongue into Coco's mouth, begging and receiving permission for more.

Without realizing it, he had started to rock his body on Coco's hard lap. Heat prickled across his skin and pooled into a demanding urge growing between his legs. He wanted more, but couldn't stop kissing Coco long enough to ask for anything.

Coco understood without words. He broke away from the increasingly desperate kisses, forcing Komatsu against his shoulder with a fierce whisper of, "That's enough."

Before Komatsu could articulate a protest, Coco's hand had found its way down to the ache that was starting to torment him. The first exploratory touch stole his voice away. A sudden escape into cold air, with the hot curve of Coco's palm right there to catch him, and Komatsu though for an instant he would lose his mind.

He latched his mouth onto the nearest patch of bare skin he could find, sucking at the exposed part of Coco's neck as if starving. He wasn't ready to stop tasting Coco, refusing to let go even when he felt the vibration of a helpless groan uncoil under his lips.

Logical thought was gone. Komatsu felt like an insensible ball of desire while Coco stroked him. He reached down himself to grab and grope at Coco in return, prompting Coco to tip his head back in pleasure and expose the sensitive places under his jaw for Komatsu's eager mouth. All he knew was the heat pounding through his body made him greedily demand everything he had never asked for, which all suddenly seemed to be spread out under him.

All in a rush, heat poured out of him into Coco's waiting hand. Komatsu stopped sucking to pant breathlessly against Coco's neck. His head was still buzzing with echos of pleasure that left him disoriented.

His hands were warm and sticky. Komatsu flexed his fingers experimentally, realized he still had them down the front of Coco's pants, and withdrew them with a healthy dose of embarrassment.

Coco was still breathing hard against him, obviously coming down from his own high. He caught Komatsu's retreating hand, combining the mess they had made between them. With his other hand he yanked at the bandages around his head until he could bring the unraveling coils down to wipe Komatsu's hands clean.

"Komatsu-kun. . . ."

"Yes?" Komatsu whispered hopefully. A small part of him thought he should apologize, but the rest of him wanted to do it again. He drifted up to nuzzle hopefully at Coco's chin, unthinkingly asking for more kisses.

Coco answered him with a firm kiss on his forehead. "No more right now. I don't want to hurt you."

"You haven't hurt me," Komatsu protested. Sure he was aching, and exhausted, but it was the good kind of exhausted and most of the ache was just his already-sore muscles.

"And I don't intend to." Coco was determined to have the last word on that, and Komatsu let him. "Can you stand? A hot bath should help you work everything out of your system."

Komatsu tried, but the minute he put weight on them his knees quivered so badly that Coco swept him up in a firm embrace again.

"Are you going to join me?" The question was more hopeful than joking.

"What am I going to do with you?" Coco sighed.

Komatsu let his smile answer for him. He had more than a few ideas he could suggest, if Coco couldn't guess for himself.


	3. Sunny/Komatsu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunny is really fun to write, even though his 'voice' is difficult to get down. (This was actually the first chapter I finished the rough draft for, but it took me about five tries rewriting the ending until I liked it.) Here's hoping Zebra takes me less than a year to write! Then I can turn to more current Toriko things and write more fic.
> 
> Translation note: The drink from Sunny's full course is called Charis Dragon Scale Shurui (a general word for an alcoholic beverage), which I chose to translate as "liquor" here. Because calling it "juice" is ridiculous. (As to why it's being served in a sake decanter if it's not technically sake? Because I thought that was the most beautiful option, of course.)

"Even with the best ingredients, the perfect preparation and the most beautiful presentation, you still need the right company to bring a meal to its peak. Don't you think, 'Matsu?"

Komatsu paused in the act of cutting a bite from the generous portion of spice catfish in front of him. Sunny was smiling across the table with a sharp look in his eye that made Komatsu wonder if he was being teased.

"Are you saying my company is no good?"

"Exactly the opposite," Sunny assured him.

Sunny's hair was twisted up in an elegant knot at the base of his neck, but Komatsu was sure he saw a ripple go through it, like the faintest shimmer of a mirage. He didn't feel anything, yet he suspected Sunny had touched him, or perhaps 'tasted' him.

"Your company makes this meal complete."

Komatsu thought the food was probably amazing enough on its own, but he wasn't about to say that and imply that he didn't enjoy the company. Especially not when Sunny was so generous as to invite him to share a meal at the Glittering Palace, a special establishment where the beauty of the food was specifically designed to rival the exquisite flavor.

This rumored once-in-a-lifetime experience was a favorite for newlywed couples on the first night of their honeymoon. The dining suites were created with this in mind, each with the absolutely private atmosphere of a honeymoon suite. It was even possible to have the dishes delivered and cleared by a mechanical system that eliminated the need for a single waiter to enter. (Sunny had forgone this option and explained in detail why he deemed it tacky until Komatsu agreed with him.)

More than the expected beauty of the presentation, Komatsu had wanted to sample the meal prepared by an eight-star chef. For a low-level chef the spice catfish was a tricky ingredient that brought inedible failure more often than success. Each catfish would have a subtly different flavor depending on the herbs it had eaten over the course of its life.

From the first bite, this fillet of catfish was such an obvious success that it made Komatsu actually drop his utensils, unable to do anything but revel in the complex flavor.

"The way you push your cheeks together when you like something," Sunny started in a low drawl, before trailing off.

Komatsu hadn't even realized he had reacted with his usual glee until Sunny pointed it out. He had been too taken by the way the unpredictably flavorful fish had been brought to its full potential, mixed with the impulsive desire to try cooking a whole school of spice catfish himself.

After a moment of expecting an annoyed comment, he was surprised by Sunny murmuring to himself, "Is this what they call personal taste?"

Komatsu remembered Sunny commenting on his reaction to high quality ingredients before. He was fairly sure that he would know if Sunny was trying to insult him, but he didn't know what to make of that comment. If it was a difference in the beauty of their actions, it didn't seem fair that Sunny could look so elegant while leaning his elbows on the table and gazing with bored, half-lidded eyes over his glass of garnet wine.

Once he began thinking about it, Komatsu couldn't help noticing how much the tasteful atmosphere suited Sunny. The warm light meant to compliment the food didn't just make the delectable soups and sauces glisten. It made Sunny's cheeks glow and his hair shine like silk. His beauty completely outshone that of anything on the table. No wonder Sunny had selected this restaurant. He was in his element here.

The sight of his companion couldn't distract Komatsu from the exceptional flavors dancing across his tongue, but with every course they shared he could swear it added to the experience somehow. If hunger was the best spice, then perhaps good company was the best presentation, as Sunny had suggested. He had never thought of that before.

As Komatsu was still savoring the last sweet traces of the golden cream cakes Sunny had selected for their dessert, he noticed their waiter present Sunny with a sake decanter and cups that shone like pearl. To his surprise Sunny actually accepted the whole tray from their waiter as he stood.

"Come'n 'Matsu." Sunny tilted his head in a gesture that was probably calculated to make the light chase fleeting highlights in his hair. This time Komatsu was completely sure he felt Sunny's touch on his face, even though it looked like his hair was tied back. It took Komatsu a second to realize he was actually indicating the inner room of their dining suite. "I wanna share this with you."

It was hard to feel any trepidation with such a comfortably full stomach. Komatsu followed Sunny into the inner room and found this one really was set up for lovers on their honeymoon. Komatsu managed to ignore the bed that dominated the room when Sunny caught him by the hand and led him to the comfortable alcove set in front of the window.

While their private dining room had been designed to show off the food, this room seemed to be designed for comfort, without a single sharp angle or rough surface. Komatsu felt as if he would sink right down into the plush velvet of the couch beside Sunny. The lights were dimmed, almost like the flickering of candlelight, but moonlight streamed through the window to catch at shifting highlights in Sunny's hair and make the sake decanter glow.

Sunny placed the tray between them and poured into the cup closer to Komatsu first.

"Charis dragon scale liquor," Sunny introduced the drink as Komatsu accepted the tiny cup with both hands. "You hafta drink it slowly."

"This is from your full course!" Komatsu exclaimed, excited to have Sunny share something that he personally rated so highly.

"Tha's right," Sunny murmured, "I'm touched you r'membered."

"How could I forget something that important?"

Sunny didn't say anything, but his smile glowed with a warm approval that left Komatsu feeling embarrassed. He took a quick sip of the liquor in an attempt to calm his nerves.

The taste was smooth and subtly sweet, without the trace of bitterness that normally accompanied strong liquor. Even the tiny sip he had taken seemed to dance on his tongue like champagne, though he hadn't seen any bubbles rising in the liquor.

"It feels like it's caressing the inside of my mouth," Komatsu cried. He felt he suddenly knew why Sunny had wanted him to savor the liquor. Its flavor was subtle, not complex in the same way the catfish had been, but with a depth that couldn't be tasted with a greedy gulp.

He tried to express this to Sunny, to show his appreciation for being offered something so delicious, and he thought from the way Sunny's smile deepened from the usual casual smugness to true contentment that his gratitude had gotten through.

"Have you ever seen a Charis dragon?"

"Um. . . not yet." The mention of the Charis dragon had made him nervous. Komatsu knew that he had run into more dangerous things on his excursions with Toriko by now, but the fact that it had 'dragon' right there in the name still made him wary.

"I'll catch one for you someday," Sunny promised. "Their scales shine like moonstones. You have to see it to fully appreciate the liquor."

Once he said that, Komatsu stopped to take a second look at his own sake cup. With the moonlight coming through the huge window in front of them the cup itself truly did shine like a flawless pearl, and when he tilted it the pale blue liquor inside reflected the light with a surprising depth of color that matched its taste. Had Sunny deliberately refined the presentation to match the beauty of the ingredient in its natural form?

"When you capture one, I would be honored to prepare it for you!"

For some reason his enthusiastic exclamation seemed to annoy Sunny. At least, it made Sunny turn sharply away from gazing at him, and even in the pale moonlight Komatsu could tell there was an extra hint of color in his cheeks.

Noticing that Sunny had drained his own sake cup, Komatsu reached forward with a instinctive offer. "Let me pour for you."

The moment he moved, Komatsu suddenly felt lightheaded. His body seemed to respond with a shocking lightness that threw him off balance. Before he could fall off of the couch, Sunny shot forward to catch him. His hair whipped out of its knot, forming a cloud of twisted tendrils around him in an instant before curling forward to cushion Komatsu.

"I told you to drink slowly."

"I did!" Komatsu protested. "What's happening to me?"

He didn't feel drunk, but even the slightest movement sent his head spinning. Being held against Sunny's solid chest helped. When Sunny's hair coiled firmly around the back of his head to keep him still that helped even more.

"I forgot to tell you how the Charis dragon got its name," Sunny murmured. Komatsu didn't see how that would explain anything, but he was too busy clinging to Sunny to complain. "It means 'grace,' from a goddess of beauty and poise. Liquor made from the scales of that dragon of grace is full of special vitamins that go right to your inner ear and make it several times more sensitive."

"Oh," Komatsu gasped.

Sunny was pressing him back into the couch, and now he understood what his odd lightheaded feeling was. He was far more aware of even the slightest movement, and the hypersensitivity had left him off balance.

"Once you adjust to it, you will be able to become even more graceful."

"Tell me about effects like that before you give it to me!"

"I was trying to! I didn't realize your tiny body would be affected before I could say it!"

Sunny had pushed himself up, bracing his hands on either side of Komatsu's head while kneeling over him. His hair had coiled all around Komatsu's body until he was captured in the cool, silky strands, and far too aware that a good amount of hair had slipped inside his clothes to stroke in cool tendrils over his skin.

There was something about Sunny's behavior that had been teasing at the back of Komatsu's mind since he had received the invitation. The way the request had been worded, and the way Sunny had been watching him all evening when Komatsu knew that Sunny's tastes would be more in tune with the atmosphere in general than Komatsu himself.

"Why did you want to share part of your full course with me?"

A lock of hair stroked up his throat and across his cheek, and Komatsu suspected that the unintended fondling was a symptom of Sunny trying to calm his own nerves.

"I have a favor I wanted to ask." Komatsu actually had a hard time hearing the words with the whisper of silken strands slithering over his ear. "Once you're used to the sensitivity from the liquor."

Komatsu was beginning to wonder if this was how animals that stumbled into the range of Sunny's sensors felt. He certainly wasn't afraid he was going to be cooked up and served for dinner, but he was completely immobilized in Sunny's hair net.

"Then can I ask something as well? If you have to, er. . . hold me like this. Can't you use your hands instead?"

As soon as he asked, he felt the coils around his body loosen. Sunny blinked at him, his usually cool gaze shifting to a look of innocent confusion, as if it had never occurred to him to approach Komatsu in any other way.

Sunny did move to put his hands on Komatsu, slipping one around his back (still touching under his shirt, Komatsu noticed) and the other to the back of his neck. Almost immediately Sunny's brows drew together and his lips were pressed into an eloquent frown.

"My hands aren't sensitive at all," Sunny complained. "I can't even taste you!"

Until just that moment, Komatsu hadn't fully realized the difference between Sunny's senses and his own. In the same way the world was full of different creatures relying on smells, or sounds, or heat to see their surroundings, or even ones like the catfish living in murky darkness and discovering the world through taste, Sunny's primary sense was different from that of a normal person. For him, it wasn't the fact of seeing something with his own eyes that made it real, but being allowed to explore it with his special sense of touch.

He hadn't realized he was asking such an inconsiderate thing of Sunny.

When he tried to lift his head, Komatsu found that he had adjusted to his new sensitivity, at least well enough to lean forward until his mouth pressed against Sunny's. Komatsu only wanted to return that all-important sense of 'taste,' to repay the sort of casual kindness Sunny had always shown him. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The sweet taste of the dessert and liquor they had just shared seemed to linger once more on his tongue when Sunny's mouth opened against his. For a moment it seemed natural to share the intimacy of touch and taste between them.

When Komatsu realized what he was doing and pulled back, it was to find Sunny staring at him. The same Sunny who had always watched cooly through his eyelashes suddenly had eyes wide with surprise. They stared at each other in mutual shock for the span of a few heartbeats, Komatsu's pulse suddenly loud in his ears, before Sunny's eyes narrowed until they were almost closed and his face darkened with an intensity that Komatsu didn't recognize.

"S-sorry!" Komatsu blurted out. "I'm sorry, Sunny-san. Suddenly doing something weird like that. . . Please forget-"

Sunny's palm suddenly covering his eyes made Komatsu interrupt his stammered apology with a confused call of, "Sunny-san?"

"I'm far more sorry, 'Matsu. I never wanted to show you such a vulgar face."

Komatsu wasn't sure how to respond, but Sunny quickly took that responsibility out of his hands by kissing him back. In a moment he was lost in the feeling of being thoroughly touched and tasted, and not just by Sunny's hands and the tongue that slipped into his mouth to tease him. Sunny's sensors were wrapping around him again until Komatsu felt he was becoming cocooned in them.

The cool touch was inside of his clothes, and stroking tenderly across his face and neck. When he wrapped his arms around Sunny's neck he felt more strands tangling softly around his fingers and wrists, until he couldn't have let go even if he wanted to. One tight coil twisted over his hip and around his waist, hugging him.

When Komatsu had to break free of the kiss with an inarticulate protest, he found Sunny's half-lidded eyes focused on him with hungry desire. Sunny had captured him so thoroughly he could hardly move.

"What. . . was the favor you wanted to ask?" Komatsu managed. In this situation he didn't know what else to say. The light, sensitive feeling in his body no longer felt alien, and he was quite sure the lightheadedness he felt had a source other than the liquor.

That made Sunny's grip on him slowly loosen. Soft tendrils of hair slid away one by one, and Komatsu missed them, even though he was still left with more than the usual amount of sensors exploring his body. He could actually still feel them teasing over his skin, and see the tremors they made plucking at his clothes.

"You know, 'Matsu, once I obtain the right dessert, my full course will be complete." Sunny said it so calmly, as if he had not just completely covered Komatsu with his touch, or as if the touch he was still lavishing everywhere was perfectly normal.

"That's right! That's a big achievement, isn't it? I'm really happy for you, Sunny-san!" Komatsu was also happy to be back on a subject he actually felt confident about.

That slight frown had returned to Sunny's lips once again, and Komatsu didn't understand what he could be upset by this time.

"I wanted to ask, when I can finally assemble all the ingredients for my full course. . . but then I went and showed you such an ugly face," Sunny covered his face with his hand, muttering to himself more than to Komatsu.

Komatsu thought he had heard enough to guess the answer. "When you can bring together the right ingredients for your full course, Sunny-san, could I have the honor of cooking it for you?"

There was a moment of silence and even Sunny's touch seemed to stop. In the next instant Komatsu thought he must have imagined it because all of Sunny's usual intensity was suddenly back in full force.

"No, no, it's unbeautiful to interrupt like that! You're the only chef I know will bring the perfect harmony to all of the ingredients and make my full course complete! I'm supposed to be asking you!"

It was all Komatsu could do not to laugh. Sunny could switch so quickly from self-possessed grace to stubborn, almost childish, anger. Usually it was Toriko who got under his skin and had that effect, but now his full lips were pressed together in a sulky pout all because of Komatsu.

"Are you asking me to fix your full course for you?"

"Yes."

Komatsu couldn't stop the smile taking over his face. He'd been worried Sunny would be angry enough to change his mind. "Then I'm honored to accept!"

He had expected Sunny to smile in return. Instead he got a piercing look that seemed to go all the way straight to his bones.

"Even though you already went an' formed a combo with Toriko?"

"Of course! I still want to cook for you, Sunny-san! I still want to be able to cook for you, and Coco-san, and Zebra-san too! I'm sure Toriko-san would agree!"

Sunny's eyes slid closed. He let out a long sigh that almost made it sound as if he had taken on a long, uphill battle, and had only just then found the peak. Before Komatsu could ask if everything was alright, he had a brief kiss pressed hard against his lips.

"Um. . . Sunny-san, I don't think you need to seal the promise like that."

"I did. Because I don't only want to taste your cooking." Sunny's hand brushed down Komatsu's chest as he spoke, moving with an uncharacteristic hesitancy. He was still getting used to using his hands for touch.

"What else do I have worth tasting?" Komatsu laughed. He'd been wrapped up and 'tasted' all over, but he doubted he was all that satisfying to Sunny's gourmet sensibilities.

"There are parts of your body I haven't tasted yet."

Sunny looked down meaningfully, and Komatsu covered his lap with both hands. He suddenly remembered that the place Sunny had asked him to share this meal was basically a honeymoon suite. It had never even occurred to him to focus on that. Sunny always brought him to the most amazing places, so he had assumed it was just because of Sunny's personal taste.

"Of course, I don't think this setting is good enough to compliment that taste of that particular. . . 'ingredient.' Don't you think? The harmony isn't even close to complete."

Komatsu didn't know if Sunny was bowing to his shy reaction, or if he really was so picky that the sort of suite that some couples saved up years to spend their wedding night in wasn't good enough.

"As long as I can experience the harmony of your cooking once in a while, I'll let you choose the ingredients we use."

That confirmed it. Sunny had read the air between them, with more than his extraordinary sense of touch. Even if his words were terribly generous in allowing Komatsu choose what to cook, it was also an offer to slow to Komatsu's pace in this as well.

Komatsu was touched. Or rather, suddenly he wasn't, as Sunny's sensors finally withdrew.

"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to. . . um. . . try a sample, while we're here together. Right-"

Komatsu was cut off as Sunny agreed with an enthusiastic kiss. As his eyes slid closed, Komatsu let himself be lost for a little while in Sunny's realm of taste and touch.


End file.
